Every Now and Then
by CliffieMaster
Summary: Every now and then she felt like screaming. And, perhaps, every now and then even he acted human. ::Dramione:: Oneshot


Cliffie: Hermione-centered one-shot, slight Draco/Hermione I suppose, because I've been reading waaaaaaaay too many Dramione stories lately. But. That's just because the pairing is totally awesome. /coughs/ Yeah, okay then. ANYWAY. This is set in sixth year, AU to HBP (but contains spoilers for OotP).

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.

* * *

Every now and then she felt like screaming. 

She couldn't help but wonder if it would help relieve the pressure on her chest. She felt like she was drowning, just a little bit more every day. Her schoolwork was piling up despite all her attempts to keep up with it. She was having nightmares every night, and rarely got enough sleep. The nightmares always varied, but usually included someone's death—she often thought about death since the fight at the Ministry and Sirius falling into the veil. Her work suffered from it, no matter how much she was loathe to admit it, and, because she was falling behind, she lost even more sleep trying to finish everything. If this wasn't bad enough, Harry and Ron were more distant than ever. Or perhaps it was her who was drawing away.

It wasn't a notable change, or at least it wasn't at first. Just a slight shift in schedules, in talking with each other and being there. She began to do more things on her own, and they ignored her just a little bit more. They still talked, and laughed, and had fun together, but they weren't as close as they used to be. She was different than they were, and it was finally catching up.

She didn't want it to be like this. She didn't want to draw away, and she wanted everything to go back to the way it used to be.

But it didn't appear that that could happen.

The thought caused even more stress, a worry that nagged at her constantly, and an ache deep within her heart that she wished would just go away.

Everything was just building up, pressure upon pressure, forcing down onto her until she wanted to do something, _had_ to do something…

"Granger?"

Her head jerked up. She was standing near the lake, just standing and staring out at the waters. It was night, well past midnight, and she knew she shouldn't be out but she couldn't help it. Her nightmares had woken her up again, and her worries refused to let her to return to sleep. And now he was here, stupid bloody Malfoy, watching her like she was some kind of wild animal.

He raised an eyebrow, sauntering over to her in that rolling gait that made her want to turn away with disgust. He had that insufferable smirk on his face, and she wished she could somehow hit him hard enough so it would be wiped from his expression forever.

"Points should be deducted for you being out here so late," he said in a nonchalant way.

"Same goes for you," she snapped from behind gritted teeth, barely withheld fury in her voice. She could feel a little bit more of herself breaking, falling away, driving her towards the edge of insanity. And it was all because of stupid bloody Malfoy. Things had been a bit different this year with him as well. He had seemed calmer, more at peace, as if he finally settled some personal conflict. She noticed he never got packages from his parents anymore. There hadn't been so many arguments between them either; senseless ones, that is. They still yelled, still seethed over whatever conflicts had been brought up that time. But it was different all the same. Perhaps it was simply because she didn't have the will or strength left to really let him have it.

And yet, somehow, she doubted it.

And it infuriated her, confused her, because somehow or another, at some time, he had changed. And she didn't know what to make of that on top of everything else.

Both eyebrows were up now. "My, you've a temper tonight," he murmured, watching her even more carefully now. "Any particular reason?"

She didn't know if there was a sneer in his voice or not—she couldn't tell. But she imagined there was one, because there was always a sneer in his voice. But he was looking at her with interest, not disdain. He was curious, not repulsed. But his words somehow managed to worm their way into that crack, widening it and placing more and more pressure upon it until she couldn't breathe.

"Any particular reason?" she found herself whispering back, tone harsh and grating. "Any particular _reason_? How about the fact that everything's falling apart! Is that enough of a _reason_ for you?" Malfoy flinched back, but she didn't even gain any satisfaction from that. The words were pouring out now, a tidal wave that had been long suppressed. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, and her tongue wouldn't stop moving, the words wouldn't stop coming. She was growing louder and louder with each second, each syllable, but she didn't care because it _had_ to come out. "It's all become too much, everyone is leaving, and I don't know what to do, I don't know what… And I can't sleep anymore, because I always see their faces, their dead faced staring at me, telling me that I could have done something to save them but I was too late. Nothing's right, everything's falling apart, and everyone is changing. The world, Harry, Ron—bloody hell, even you, Malfoy! And I'm just so scared, I'm scared of what's going to happen, and I don't, I, I—"

And then she screamed, screamed because the words were twisted and she couldn't get them out anymore, an aggravated, strangled cry that made Malfoy jump. When the noise died away, she simply stood there, chest heaving as she panted and tears filled the corners of her eyes.

Malfoy blinked, once, twice, and shook his head. "Jeez, Granger. No need to go all feral on me. Calm down, would you? You're hurting my ears."

She thought, for a minute, about the fact her enemy wasn't ridiculing her. He wasn't watching her with concern, or offering to help, but he didn't laugh at her either. A year ago, he would have. A year ago, he would have mocked her mercilessly. But now he wasn't. Perhaps he had grown, just a little bit. Perhaps he wasn't evil all the time. And, perhaps, every now and then even he acted human.

Every now and then.

* * *

Cliffie: Abstract, but I liked it. Too long to be a ficlet, though, which was my intention. Oh well. Now it's just a short one-shot. No real romance—I told you, it was only gonna be slight. In fact, it's not really romance at all. More like two enemies forgetting quarrels for one night. I like that. It seems rather realistic to me. I've always thought of Draco as a complex character—he's not essentially evil, I believe. It's more like his father forced it on him. In the sixth book, you can see his reluctance to do things (obviously). Besides, I don't think even he would be mean to Hermione when she's so obviously upset and could so totally kick his ass. Come on, everyone has a teeny tiny bit of compassion in them! Right? 

/clears throat/ Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it! Review if you wish to make me happy!


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